


Why We Should Date

by sariane



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariane/pseuds/sariane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve doesn't understand modern dating customs. That's how he ends up making a PowerPoint presentation for Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why We Should Date

**Author's Note:**

> I blame tumblr and the Internet at large for giving me really stupid ideas.  
> (Edited on 6/24/12 to fix minor errors.)

Steve plops onto the couch with a glass of soda and turns on the lounge's television. "What are you two doing?" he asks Clint and Natasha, who are bent over some kind of a computer on the other side of the couch. Hawkeye makes a snorting noise that he thinks is a laugh, and Steve hopes it isn't at his choice of TV show. The History Channel is strangely educational, although sometimes Bruce has to leave the room when the shows frustrate him and Thor argues that they should watch BBC America. When he can’t sleep, he come down into the lounge and watches the Food Network or bad sci-fi movies with Tony, who never sleeps, either.

Sometimes he regrets accepting Tony's invitation to join them all at Stark Tower, because they're all driving him slowly insane.

At the top of his list of things that are driving him crazy is technology. Stark Tower is filled with it, from computers to holographic things and JARVIS (he carefully categorizes Tony into this category, by association and obsession).

When Natasha hands him the computer -- he vaguely remembers it being called an iPad -- he takes it carefully and stares at it. "Thor got a blog," Natasha says simply.

"Blog?"

"Web-log. You post stuff," Clint says, showing him how to move up and down the page.

"Tum-blair," he says thoughtfully, and then skims through Thor's many posts (ranging from pictures of kittens to retellings of their adventures). "What--what's that? It looks like one of the presentations Pepper makes for meetings." Steve points to a particular post with the caption "HUMAN DATING RITUALS ARE AMUSING."

"Oh, it's a PowerPoint," Natasha explains, glancing at it. "Someone made it to ask someone to be their girlfriend."

"Do people do that?"

Clint and Natasha exchange a brief look that Steve, or anyone without special training, would miss by a mile.  
"Yeah," Clint nods. "All the time. It's cute."

"Cute?" _Wow,_ Steve thinks, _modern courting is so…strange._ "Things sure have changed a lot since my day." Natasha narrows his eyes, and he's certain she knows that he never had any experience in dating in the first place.

*

"Hey, Thor, may I please use your computer?" Steve says at the door of Thor's room, offering up a box of chocolate poptarts as payment/distraction.

"Why yes, of course!" Thor booms. (As if he could speak any other way.) He takes the poptarts. "I shall return once these have been toasted." Steve sighs in relief and hopes the diversion will work long enough for him to use Thor's computer. He wishes he had his own, but he had flat out refused Tony's offer. He sits down and stares at the screen, where Thor has apparently been exchanging messages with someone called Darcy Lewis. He looks down at the keyboard and mouse. It can't be that hard...

"What the hell am I doing?" he asks after a few seconds, wondering both about his plans and the computer.

"May I be of assistance, Captain?" Jarvis' voice answers his plea, and Steve jumps in surprise.

"Um, yeah, I’m trying to make a PowerPoint presentation." The computer screen flashes, and then a light blue box appears. He vaguely remembers it being called a window. There's a blank white box in the middle that he supposes is one of the slides. "Click to add title," he reads out loud, brow furrowing.

"Making a PowerPoint?" Bruce says from the doorway with amusement in his voice. Steve jumps again, caught in the act. Or the attempt. He's not sure it counts as an act. He blushes a little anyways.

" _Trying_ to make a PowerPoint," Steve sighs. Bruce smiles.

"Want help?"

"JARVIS was helping," he says quickly, afraid to let Bruce in on his plan.

"I see, obviously, you know just what you're doing and need no help. Which is why you had to distract Thor with poptarts." Bruce turns to leave.

"Wait," he groans. "Don't tell anyone. They will -- you know how they are. I saw something online, on Thor's blog, a PowerPoint…" he points to the screen needlessly. Bruce puts on his glasses and joins him at the computer.

"The dating one? For Tony, right?" Steve nods in reply and he turns completely red. _It'll be white and blue next,_ he thinks wryly.

"You really are a genius," he says, mortified. "If you tell him, I will--"

"Oh no, believe me. _You_ are going to tell him, not me." He smiles again, and Steve can't help but trust that face.

*

"Insert a clip of art!" Thor suggests enthusiastically, and Steve looks up helplessly to the crowd of friends behind him.

"You just go to insert...clip art…and search for what you want," Natasha says before he can ask.

He hesitates, and slowly types in 'Iron Man.'

"These are just cartoons of men ironing," he says, "Definitely not Tony." They laugh. He tries 'Captain America,' but to no avail. "Oh, come on!" Next, 'America.'

"Use that one," Clint says quickly, pointing at the screen. Steve hesitates.

"You don't think--"

"I think it's cute," Natasha says. "Needs a cupid, though." She leans forward and brings up a cherub, labeling it 'Hawkeye.'

"Hey," Clint protests, but, thankfully, the fight does not come to blows, or they'd all be dead in the crossfire.

"Alright," Steve says, "I think I'm getting the hang of this. What about a graph, like the other one?"

"I'd better handle that," Bruce says, taking his place at the computer.

"Wait," Natasha grabs the mouse and scrolls down to the next slide Steve had attempted, exclaiming in a disgusted voice, "Is that _Comic Sans_?"

*

"Hello? Heeeeellllooooo, anybody there? The lights are supposed to go on automatically when I walk into a room, JARVIS, even if you refuse to play _The Imperial March_ I think you can manage the li--"

"Hey, Tony," Steve says, turning on the projector. The light comes on and nearly blinds him. "Sit down." Tony looks around the room suspiciously and finally steps out of the elevator. It's the top floor of Stark Tower, and Steve knows he generally considers it off limits.

"Oooh, a presentation. I'm _so_ excited, did you bring popcorn?" Tony says quickly. Steve can tell he's a bit nervous at being surprised and trying to cover it up with a quip. He wonders if anyone has actually used the projector before, or if it was there merely on Pepper’s insistence.

"Just sit down," he says firmly, embarrassed, and begins to wonder if this really was such a great idea after all. Bemused, Tony sits down on a couch and puts up his feet.

He leans over Tony’s work station of computers and selects the icon with the wine glass, as Bruce had instructed, silently thanking JARVIS for being so adaptable and helpful today. The first slide successfully fills the projector’s screen, and he sees Tony’s eyebrows rise. His stomach drops.

Steve takes a deep breath, and begins to read out loud.

*

 

 

*

Steve never stops or waivers while reading, even when the tiny voice in the back of his head mutters that this was a terrible idea and that he should stop and never show his face in Stark Tower ever again. Unfortunately, his mouth keeps going even when his brain shuts down, and everything goes just as he had practiced (for Clint, Natasha, Bruce, and an excited Thor, who had applauded his bravery).

It seems to take hours before he reaches the last slide, his heard beating violently through his chest. He exhales. Inhales.

The screen turns black, and he freezes, looking intently at Tony. Steve can barely see Tony's outline against the city lights, tinged with the bluish glow of the arc reactor. He wants to run, which is a new feeling. First, he needs to get the flashing drive out of the computer so Tony can't send the PowerPoint to everyone as a huge joke, but he isn't sure how.

"Well," he starts, voice weak, "Um."

"I liked the graph," Tony says, "nice touch." His mouth goes dry at this, and he can't seem to bring himself to speak.

"Tony," he manages.

"Who put you up to this? My money's on Clint and Natasha," his laugh is too high and too mocking, the tone strained, and Steve knows he's messed up somehow. He wishes so much that he could understand modern customs. He feels so stupid, yet again, but maybe Tony will go on thinking it's a joke and he'll pretend like it is and they'll all move on. "Oh, I think I need a drink." He doesn't flip on any lights as he heads over to the bar, but Steve can see Tony's hand shaking with withheld laughter as he pours himself a drink. His feet carry him over to the bar.

"Tony."

"A PowerPoint, though, that's original. And the clipart. Definitely Natasha's hand in there," he snorts, drowning it in one gulp. He laughs again, shakily, and Steve just can't take it anymore. How is he supposed to know anything about this world if people won't _tell_ him?

"Tony, would you _stop laughing_?" Steve growls, banging his fists down onto the surface of the bar so suddenly he's not sure his body is connected to his brain anymore. The wood cracks a little. Tony stops laughing. He's thankful for that.

"Why? You weren't actually--"

"Serious? Well, I. I was, actually." Steve looks down at the damage and shrinks away.

"What, really? Did you see that on the Internet?" Tony asks in a strained voice, but at least he isn't laughing anymore. Steve can see the disbelief on his face. Of course, it was a ridiculous idea. He hates himself a little, hates this time period and how gullible it has made him.

"Yes. I'm..really sorry. That was really stupid. I just thought that, since you like technology, it would be fun and normal.” He takes a deep breath, “I just thought it would be a nice, modern way to tell you about my feelings. This era is so confusing, still, and you’re wrapped up in all the modern things I don’t quite understand.” Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair, thinking it would be better if he’d shut his mouth, and looks sheepishly at his feet. "I'm sorry about the bar. I didn't--"

"It's fine. Christ, it's fine.” Tony chuckles a little, and he looks up again at the amused expression.

"I thought people actually did that," Steve says, turning red once again. "Would it be bad for morale if I killed the rest of the team?"

"I'd like to see you try," Tony lets out a laugh, leans over the bar, and kisses him.

"What?" he breathes when Tony pulls away. His brain stops working.

"What do you mean, what? You made a PowerPoint! You used the word ‘feelings’ a minute ago? Didn't you know what you were getting into?"

"Not actually, no. Obviously not.” His brain finally catches up. “So, is that a yes? I didn’t think that would actually work. Just, next time, give me a warning, before you ambush me." Steve smiles, in spite of himself, comforted by banter and the normalcy returning to them.

"And _you_ give _me_ warning before you ambush me with technology. You know how I get around PowerPoints." Tony winks at him, _actually winks at him_ , and now he is absolutely certain that Tony is flirting with him for real this time.

Steve laughs, laughs in shaking relief and disbelief and doesn't know what to say for a moment. He walks a few steps to a cushy chair and collapses onto it, legs weak.  He smiles, "I thought you slept through company presentations."

"Was that meant to be offensive?" Tony drains the drink, and Steve doesn't even wince at his drinking, still in a state of joyous shock. "You're cute, you know, in a completely non-nauseating, slightly sexy way I never thought possible until now. Is there a word for that?"

"Um," Steve says, "Um," because he's not sure what else to say. "Coy? I could ask the Google." Tony sits next to him, nearly on top of him in the tiny chair, and ruffles his hair with a wild laugh.

"You keep doing it. Jesus, stop. You know, I think it was the little cupid Hawkeye that did it. No, wait, it was definitely the graph." Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders affectionately and he wants to pinch himself to make sure it’s really happening.

"I can't claim credit for all that. Natasha and Bruce helped me," he grins again as Tony turns off the projector and leans back, shoulder to shoulder with him. He figures they're all either listening in or watching somehow (he hates spies), which is a lot more disturbing than he'd like to think about, so he says loudly, "They're incorrigible and I will never trust them again." They share a laugh, and the shaky feeling in the pit of his stomach disappears.

"Oh," Tony says suddenly. "About the graph."  Steve meets his eyes, the city reflected in them, Tony's mischievous spark lighting up as well, and his stomach does a really embarrassing flip. The corners of Tony's mouth turn up and he leans in to whisper,  "Tell me, what exactly is fondue?"

 


End file.
